They Call Her Miss Parker
by AJeff
Summary: Miss Parker shows her parenting skills on raising a daughter.


She was the Ice Queen of The Centre. My father, Mr. Broots worked for her constantly on her demands. I got to know Miss Parker on the days I visited him at work. I sometimes wondered if he was actually afraid of her. She showed no emotions. People called her heartless. I called her cold-hearted. She just needed someone to melt that ice that was forming around her heart. I was that person.

In the very beginning, she sat at her desk staring blankly at nothing in particular. Every now and then she'd see me watching her. Watching her every move. She never smiled, as if she was afraid to. She kept her emotions in. I often wondered what occupied her thoughts.

I was very inquisitive. Miss Parker answered my questions. She never added more than she was asked. I found her slowly, gradually warming up to me. It began that one day my father had been assigned to a three-day business trip.

I asked her if I could stay with her. I surprised her by my request. Her place was a house, not a home. It was dark and gloomy. She liked to sit and stare at the empty fireplace. She entertained me with books and video games. We even played dress up. That first night, she entered my bedroom, just as I was getting ready for bed. With a hairbrush in her hand, she gently ran her fingers through my hair and began to brush it. She said her mother had done the exact thing for her every night. She had that far away look as if she was reminiscing a moment in her life that was tucked away in that cold heart of hers.

My father's sudden heart attack left me an orphan. The courts awarded Miss Parker to be my legal guardian. It didn't surprise me that she fought for me. Although, it did to others at The Centre. They never knew she had a heart, until they saw it breaking.

We got into this huge argument about a year after I moved in with her. I wanted to spend a weekend away from home, a trip to New York with a friend and her family. She was too overly protective. I yelled at her saying I was not a child. She yelled back, "you're my child!" I replied shouting that I was not her daughter and she was just some lady I got dumped on. I stomped away and slammed my bedroom door shut. I flopped on the bed hugging my pillow thinking all the while how selfish she was.

I looked around my room. Every inch of the room was a reflection of her. She took the time to decorate it from my beddings to the laced curtains. It's hard to imagine, but she made be feel welcomed. It was my home as much as it was hers. We'd go on shopping sprees, came home with loads of tote bags full of everything. She had gotten me a beautiful vanity set of sterling silver hairbrush, comb and hand mirror. Everything I had in that room was because of her. She had even gotten me a leather outfit, complete with boots and a jacket. She called me her own "Little Miss Parker".

I remember getting really ill, in bed with the flu for about a week. She took care of me. She never left my side. She was a doting mother. A few months later, it was a reversal of duties. Her ulcer was acting up and I cared for her. It frightened me that I was going to lose her. She needed me as much as I needed her.

I ran out of my bedroom and into the kitchen wanting to apologize. I stepped back upon seeing her. She was crying. I have never seen her cry before. I never knew how much my words would hurt her. I could only imagine what she felt inside. I never knew how much she loved me, until that very moment.

"I'm sorry," I said softly. Never bothering to acknowledge me, she walked away. It broke my heart.

"Mom," I yelled out. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean those things. I didn't mean those words. I'm sorry."

She walked slowly towards me. I tried holding back my tears, only to have it fall rapidly down my face. "I'm sorry, Mom. I shouldn't have said those awful things." She hugged me ever so tightly, not wanting to let go. She's never heard me call her anything but Miss Parker. She was a mom in every way.

I'm a graduate of Sarah Lawrence. You see, I finally got to go to New York. Only I waited until I went away to college.

At The Centre, they call her Miss Parker. Me? I just call her Mom.


End file.
